As the Sun Rises
by AvatarHufflepuff
Summary: Aurora's mind is set on becoming queen and forcing a friendship between the two worlds she's come to call home. But the road to coronation is littered with roadblocks.
1. White Moves First

**Note**: Enough people wanted to see my other oneshot turned into a full blown story so here you go.

"I'm not entirely certain about this."

"Trust me, Godmother."

"It is the gaggle of vultures in the next room I do not trust, and they _are_ all vultures."

"You just say that because you don't like humans."

"I don't like _most_ humans."

With not just horns but wings now Maleficent stuck out in the castle hall like—well like a faerie. She didn't like the walls, there were too many of them and all too tight together. The ironwork on the hallway torches glared at her no matter how far away she stayed. There was far too much human in this place and not even Aurora could make her feel comfortable.

"If you don't at least try to talk to them Godmother it won't work," she insisted, "you said I was queen now—"

"I said only if you wish to be."

"And I do wish to be," she said. She huffed and shook her head and Maleficent was reminded suddenly of a very exasperated six-year-old Aurora ready to throw a fit over dropping a biscuit on the kitchen floor.

"Please, Godmother," she said, taking Maleficent's wrists in hand, "I know you're nervous and I'd be too—I am. But it's one thing to just live hiding away in the Moors, it's another to be able to call the kingdoms friends and not have to worry about anymore fighting."

Oh no, there would always be fighting. Aurora was very sweet but also very naïve. Peace treaties like the one she wanted could not last more than a few generations until someone who had never known peace with a heart of greed appeared. Then it would begin all over again.

Besides, what Aurora really wanted was to be able to move freely between the Moors and her own kingdom. Maleficent knew the prince was partially to blame for that. Aurora's plan to live forever in the Moors with Maleficent and the faeries had gone up in smoke after he came along. She could not blame Aurora for wanting a normal life with a normal man but she was coldly reminded of Stefan's own choice of the human world over her own.

"What exactly is it you require of me beastie?" she sighed.

"They've already agreed to let me succeed my father," she said. That bit had taken some convincing. "We just have to make them see the truth when it comes to you and the faeries. Which…means you'll have to…speak to them." She was quick to stand when Maleficent opened her mouth "Just for a little, Godmother, please. And then you won't ever have to do it again. I'm queen I'll make it so."

Maleficent closed her eyes for quite a few long seconds before she opened them again. She felt Diaval's beak nudge her from her from his perch on her shoulder. So he was siding with Aurora too then, typical. Of course all the things Maleficent endured for the sake of the tiny little baby she'd cursed in the throne room were far and beyond this, a few moments of speaking to a room full of people.

It wasn't life threatening but perhaps that's why it was so hard. She was risking embarrassment and mental torture and all while Aurora watched.

"Very well," she said.

Aurora smiled and bounced up let a stream of thank you's and I'll make it up to you's out of her mouth before she took a breath and flattened out her dress.

Maleficent gave her shoulder a twitch and Diaval hopped off. She waved her fingers and watched him sprout into a man in whiff of smoke. He gave his head a shake and straightened out his jacket.

"I don't think going in there with a raven perched on my shoulder is going to help my case, they might mistake you for a—what is it the humans call it? A familiar? " she said.

"Oh sure, just wave your hand and magically turn him into a human, that's better," he said, shaking out his hair. He never did hide his distaste for his human form.

"Which is exactly why I did it here where no one can see, one day you'll learn to appreciate the gifts I-"

"Enough you two," Aurora cut in, "Honestly."

She turned, took a breath, and opened the chamber doors and Maleficent watched with apprehension as they closed behind her.

Aurora hadn't expected the councilors to sit so high up. They towered a desks high above her and it didn't seem right. She wasn't on trial for anything but that's the emotional response they wanted from her. Maleficent warned of these things, she called them "games" though they were nothing like the ones she played as a child. Maleficent said they would be cruel games, they'd try to twist her words and make her think thoughts that weren't her own.

"Your Highness," they greeted, "Or rather, Your Majesty as it is to soon be official."

Aurora curtseyed and bowed her head but didn't know how to address them. Most queens actually grew up as princesses. She had no schooling in politics or diplomacy or etiquette like other princesses.

_What would Maleficent do?_

Her Godmother wouldn't even acknowledge them. She'd make eye contact to let them know she recognized their presence but that would be the extent of it. She'd do all the talking to, probably find three different ways to insult them without them even realizing it. No, perhaps it was best not to do as Maleficent would. Not here.

"Good afternoon, sirs," she said with her most stable voice.

"We understand Your Majesty is here to bring before us the matter of the Moors," one said, he seemed to be doing the most talking.

"Yes," she said. "I was hoping we could reach an agreement. A peace agreement my God—the faerie queen is here."

She steadied her breath after the near slip. If she let slip the nature of her relationship to Maleficent then they'd suspect a bias. She was just the Queen of the Moors, not her godmother, not her friend, not her protector. Was this what playing the games here was? Lying?

"Have you anything to say Majesty before we call her in?" said the same one.

"Just that…No one likes their home invaded. The faeries and all the other magical creatures there never tried to take our land. They just want to be left alone. But I suppose she'll tell you that herself," she said.

"Any particular reason why you find yourself so invested in this particular campaign, Majesty?" another one spoke up.

So many reasons. She wanted to see Maleficent, she wanted to see Diaval, she wanted to play with her friends in the Moors. But she wanted to be queen too, she wanted to see Phillip again. She wanted both worlds at once and if she couldn't have that, she'd lose them both trying to choose.

"My father died because of this conflict, and so did my grandfather I'm told," she said. Another lie. She hoped she was good at this game.

"Very well, send in the faerie."

The doors opened without a word. The guard simply nodded to the inside of the chamber, expecting her to obey. Next to her Diaval stood. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? You didn't think you were going in there alone did you mistress?" he said.

_Ever my wings_.

She walked in without a word to him and no care for his muttering of "A thank you won't hurt you mistress." She ignored him and crossed the threshold of the room, feeling her wings drag on the tile beneath her. Her bare feet made no sound. Aurora sat off to the side watching her, looking paler than usual.

There were four councilors. One fat one, one very tall one, one bald one, and one with a large nose; otherwise, they all looked the same to her.

"Who is this?" the fat one nodded to Diaval.

"My servant. He goes where I go." And that was all that needed to be said.

"You are the faerie queen then…is it Majesty? Grace? Excellency?" he said.

"Maleficent."

They nodded.

"We want to first make it clear that the events preceding King Henry's death are not accountable here. War is war and soldiers and soldiers, you are not on trial," he said. But that confirmed she was indeed on trial.

"You are then forgiven as well for the deaths of my own in that battle," she said, "War is war." If they sensed the edge they did not acknowledge it. She could almost feel Diaval scolding the back of her head.

"You are here at the queen's request to broker a peace treaty," said the big nosed one. "We are willing, your terms depending."

Treaties and brokering, it sounded all too formal. Humans always wanted material promises, a paper, a seal, a signature.

"Leave us be," she said, "Let what you would call 'treasures' that exist in the Moors to remain there. Let us stay there undisturbed."

"And what do you want from us?"

"You have nothing of interest to me. Only that. Leave us be."

The room was quiet as they all looked at her, they were staying at her wings and horns she knew, not at her. She was not a person to them. She was a faerie to them in the most negative sense of the word. She was the price her wings and horns would fetch on a black market.

"We will deliberate further," the fat one said, "But I believe I speak for the council when I say you have our interest in this agreement. We will draw up a more formal document and call upon you again…Maleficent."

"Surely we could work it all out now sirs?" Aurora said jumping up at the mention of a second meeting. She had a look of horror on her face, perhaps a mixture of fear for Maleficent and guilt over having, apparently now, lied to her.

"Your Majesty, these things take time and generations of animosity can't be solved in a few short words, certainly the faerie would agree," the fat one said.

"Further," the tall one spoke up, "We need time to examine motives and actions of all those involved." Maleficent decided instantly she liked him the least. He looked like a rat and he sneered like a jackal.

"Not that anyone is questioning Your Excellency," the fat one said quickly.

She nodded and could practically feel Aurora relax behind her. She however, swallowed. She'd be back her again, probably more than once. And perhaps even after that paper was signed she'd be back. The humans would own her, at least a part of her after the contract was signed. And to that Maleficent shivered.

She hated this place. She hated the memories locked away in the stone and tile and metal that build each room. It reeked of Stefan, it looked like Stefan, it felt like Stefan. The men sitting in front of her were the ones who'd turned Stefan against her. So much greed was pouring from their mouths and eyes. She didn't want Aurora with them, but she had no choice, at least not right now.

So she exited the room with Diaval in tow. The pitter-patter of quick feet behind her told her Aurora had jumped from her chair and followed behind them, her joy a counterweight to Maleficent's apprehension.

"You did good, Godmother!" Aurora said, "You didn't pull their hair or make it rain on them." She wanted to though. "We'll get it sorted. I promise I'll make sure the next time you go in there is the last, this time I swear it. Then I can spend weeks in the Moors, I'll say it's all about—what was the word—diplomacy."

"Come along beastie," she said, leading Aurora back towards her bedroom in the castle.

"You're not staying here tonight?" Aurora asked when she saw Maleficent and Diaval make for the balcony.

"I have some matters to attend to back in my own home," she said. Maleficent desperately wanted to bring Aurora back to the Moors with her, to keep her out of the human's grip but if her people knew, they'd never forgive her.

And she could not stay here. It was too closed in, too much iron, and too much that reminded her of Stefan. It was the rowan tree for her.

"You'll be back tomorrow," Aurora said nervously and Maleficent smiled and kissed her forehead.

"I'm never far enough away that you cannot find my shadow."

Aurora smiled back and bid her goodnight happily. She bid farewell to Diaval as well with a curtsey. And when Maleficent was far out of earshot of any human she waved her hand and Diaval was a bird once more.

"Watch her tonight," she ordered.

Diaval obeyed without question.


	2. Silent Nights, Stormy Nights

**Note**: Apparently my page breaks didn't show up on the last chapter. Awk.

Maleficent stayed awake most of the night, flying about the Moors. She must have done four laps over the same glades before dawn. She told herself with the wall of thorns down it was better to be safer. But her mind was not on intruders but on thieves. Human thieves, human jewel thieves. The young boy who had thrown away one of his few earthly possessions just so he might hold her hand and how he could possibly be the same man who lay in the ground now.

"You and your big wings are going to keep me up all night!" Knottgrass complained loudly when Maleficent made her third pass over the pixie tree.

Maleficent made no responses but glided over to the hilltop overlooking the valley from which she watched Stefan's castle—no _Aurora's _castle. The windows showed no light, save for a few, one of which she hoped was not Aurora, Diaval would make sure she slept, she hoped.

"When I'm king I'll make sure there's a room just for you, with a balcony so you can come and go," Stefan said one night as they sat watching the sunset behind the castle.

"I'll make you a tree," she said back.

"King's don't live in trees."

"And faeries don't live in stonewalls."

When they were children it was so easy to laugh away the hardships their future would bring, because they had both been certain the other would concede. If Stefan knew he couldn't take a faerie for his wife and queen, he never showed it when they were young. And though it had been at the back of her own mind she never let it get much farther. They'd find a way.

_And with love's first kiss…prove that true love conquers all_….well she would have needed true love for that. And since it was not found in the memory of Stefan she looked for it in the windows of the far off castle, searching for his daughter.

* * *

Aurora dreamed she was dancing at a faerie ball with Phillip. It was a far better dream than the one she had while encased in Maleficent's curse. Perhaps it was the magic, perhaps it was her own awful thoughts but she dreamed she was trapped in a black room with no windows and no doors. She heard everything around her, the pixies, Phillip, her father, Maleficent…

Perhaps it hadn't been a dream then. Her body had gone quiet but her mind was a buzz with her flitting about it like a bee desperate to be released from her cage. She'd screamed for her father to hear her, for Phillip, and even her aunties. But when Maleficent spoke, she cried.

"I will not ask you to forgive me…"

She wept instantly, out of anger, out of fear, out desire to see her godmother again and be told it would be alright. And the more Maleficent spoke the more she wanted to see her face. She'd forgive her everything, even though she shouldn't. And waking had been like being born perhaps, sudden light and sudden warmth and there stood Maleficent with tears to match her own.

Waking now felt far more groggy and much like a chore. Instead of warm light she felt the glaring sun, her namesake outside bringing daylight. It gave her a headache.

A squawk from her balcony startled her and through the sheer curtains she saw the silhouette of a raven sitting on the railing. _Wherever I went, your shadow followed me._

"Pretty bird," she smiled and Diaval fluttered his wings approvingly before giving her a bow and flying off, back to the Moors. He and Maleficent bickered so often she knew he took every compliment she gave him back to her with a grin.

She swung her legs out of bed and made to get ready, going to the ensuite. The floor was grey marble, the bathtub cast iron and sticking out like a lump of coal in a bed of storm clouds. How was she supposed to get water into the tub she wondered…With her aunties she would collect water from the stream, where would she find one of those in a castle?

"Majesty?" a knock at the door interrupted.

"Yes? Come in," she said, scurrying back into the main room, making sure her dressing gown was folded over modestly.

Into the room walked a rather pudgy chambermaid carrying a tray of food.

"I meant to wake you myself, Majesty," she said, carrying the chair over to an ottoman sitting in front of a chaise longue, "True to your name then, rising with the dawn."

Aurora gave her an obligated smile and wondered how many times that same jest would be made at her in the next few weeks.

She munched on her breakfast while the maid drew her a bath. She ate nearly all of it save the meat, Maleficent didn't eat meat, she'd need to amend food menus whenever she came to visit. And she _would_ come to visit…she hoped.

The bath was more luxurious than anything she'd know with her aunties, though the incense and oils became overpowering at a certain point and she felt a headache coming on by the time the bath was over. She did however, feel far cleaner than any bath she'd taken at the cottage.

"I've laid out a gown for you ma'am," the maid said.

The gown looked complicated and uncomfortable. She eyed her clothes from home longingly. But no, she had to dress this way. This was her home now. She was queen, she had to look like a queen, follow her peoples' customs. They didn't feel like her people though, that was the problem itching at the back of her head. The faerie creatures would let her wear whatever she wanted…One more day in her old gowns couldn't hurt. She had nothing formal planned today anyway.

With a comfortable dress securely on she answered the door the next time there was knock, a new face was there, not the chambermaid but a very stiff looking male servant.

"Your Majesty, you have a guest here to see you," he said.

"Maleficent?" she said hopefully, peeking her head out the door.

"No."

Of course not. Maleficent would never go through the string of formal and proper steps to come see her. She'd fly to the balcony and be done with it. No more humans than necessary involved.

"It's Prince Phillip from—"

"Phillip?"

She was just as giddy at that prospect but for an entirely different emotion. She felt her cheeks heat up and her stomach bubble in a very pleasant way. She saw him down the hall, sitting rigidly and nervously on a cushioned bench. She went walking right up to him.

"Hello."

He jumped to his feet, stumbled slightly, and as soon as he regained his balance he turned his face into a dashing smile.

"Hello Aurora."

They'd gotten past the part where she was a princess days ago, and now queen as well as the part about Maleficent and her aunties. With all the explaining out of the way there was room for…what exactly? She knew the emotion she felt had a name and she knew it was about this age that girls started feeling it. She'd read enough storybooks as a girl to know a love story when she saw one.

They walked the gardens together for the morning. She recalled his fumbling apology to her, a week prior, for kissing her without permission while she slept. He insisted he'd done it because he'd been told it would wake her but admitted—much to Aurora's fluttering stomach—that he did want to kiss her. And since then she'd been waiting for the moment he chose to try it again. She wanted to actually be able to kiss him back.

"You're telling me you've never been actual, proper horseback riding before?" he said.

"No, I missed out on all the normal princess things living out in the forest," she said. The only time she'd rode a horse was to get as far away from Maleficent as she could.

"Well that's it, we're going."

"Going where?"

He took her hand and pulled her out of the garden quickly and eventually out of the castle and towards the stables, ignoring the odd and knowing looks many of the staffers were giving them.

"This is Samson," he said, gesturing to the grey horse beneath his hand. The horse was gorgeous, not a musty gray but a color that reminded her of the air after a rainstorm with a mane that shimmered a darker shade. The horse was groomed and well muscled.

"Hello," she said, offering her hand out to Samson who sniffed it once before nudging it, prompting her to run her hand down his nose.

"He's a good horse and would be honored to take you out on your first real horseback ride," he said.

Phillip held out one hand and Aurora offered her own. He pulled her over, with one hand wrapped around her hip he lifted her up. She let both legs stay to one side, sidesaddle, that's the way princesses and queens rode. Once she was steady Phillip pulled himself up behind her, taking the reins in either hand.

With his arms encircling her she allowed herself to lean back a bit and relax and she could almost feel his smile as they set out at a light trot.

* * *

"She slept perfectly sound," Diaval said, "Not a single stir all night. I'm not sure what you were afraid of, nothing could touch her in those walls."

_It's the walls I'm afraid of. _

She said nothing back to Diaval, but kept up her walk through the glen, stopping to heal broken branches and diseased leaves as she saw them. Diaval followed silently, stopping she stopped, and starting again as she did.

"How did _you_ sleep mistress?" he said after a few moments of only the sound of crunch grass beneath their feet.

"Fine." _Not at all._

She looked out to the sky where deep blue clouds were gathering in the canvas behind Stefan's castle. She stared long enough to see a flash of light within the clouds and a few seconds later a low rumble cut through the air and make its way to her and Diaval.

"There's a storm on the way," she said.

"I am a bird you know I can tell too," he scoffed. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on," she said, getting up and walking briskly.

Aurora hated thunderstorms from childhood when she'd scream and cry about it to when she was older and would hold up under her covers. A crown would not change that.

"Where are we going in a storm?" he said.

"Aurora."

And that was that needed saying as she waved her fingers and turned him back into a raven. They took off in flight together and glided over the human kingdom, banking together, turning together, twisting to catch the last rays of sun together. Flying with Diaval was her favorite thing in the world she was not afraid to admit (not to him of course). She envied him his wings so much over those sixteen years, the second her wings were back she wanted nothing more than to fly next to him and release all the envy and anger that had built up in place of her wings like a phantom limb.

So they flew to the castle, keeping to the cloud line to stay out of sight of the guards who would misunderstand. She must have looked a gargoyle on the parapet when she landed down. She waved Diaval forward to make sure no servants or ladies-in-waiting were in Aurora's room.

She dropped down onto the balcony and lightly pushed past the sheer curtains at the entrance to the room. She did not see Aurora, not at first, missing her for the lump underneath the covers where she ought to be. The lump was breathing and when a particularly loud gust of thunder shook the stonewalls it jumped and curled in tighter on itself.

Maleficent sat down on the edge of the bed and extended her hand.

"Oh beastie," she sighed and rested her hand where she knew Aurora's head to be.

The queen popped out of her shelter and immediately launched into a hug, gripping Maleficent tightly around her torso beneath her wings. Maleficent stayed stiff but allowed a wing to come around the girl and enclose her.

"Godmother, you came," she said. The word "finally" was hidden in there somewhere.

Above them Diaval nestled himself into a top corner of Aurora's wardrobe, flittering his wings a bit before settling there. Another crack of thunder went off.

"Can we go to the Moors tonight?" she asked, letting go of Maleficent but moving closer to her at the sound. Maleficent frowned, the girl desired home in the tree she'd slept in for the first week after Stefan's death.

"I'm afraid the Moors will not be a safer place from the storm."

"Tell me a story then."

"What kind of story?"

She laughed before she said it.

"A fairy tale."

Aurora's bright smile was worth the bad joke and Maleficent pursed her lips to try and keep from smiling back.

"I don't know any of those beastie," she said.

"You could…tell me about my father."

The silence that came after was not dangerous, but just sad. She knew Aurora would ask one day, growing more and more curious now that the wings had returned and her hair was down. Diaval would not tell her, as much as he doted on Aurora he would not betray his mistresses secrets.

"That's not a story for a stormy night," she said. And Aurora accepted it at once, perhaps relieved that her godmother's temper had not flared at the question.

Instead they stayed silent, Aurora curled up in her bed, laying against Maleficent's outstretched wing. Maleficent herself found sitting on the bed terribly uncomfortable and yearned for her own tree back home. But Aurora lay still against the feathers, not asleep, but content in the protection her godmother's presence afforded her. Every now and again she'd flinch at the flash of light inevitably followed by a crack of thunder.

"They're not all that frightening," Maleficent said.

"Lots of people are scared of thunderstorms."

"Lots of humans."

She felt Aurora bristle at the statement but the girl said nothing. Maleficent wondered if she should amend it.

"The thunderstorms renews the ground and the trees and the flowers, destruction is part of what makes the world beautiful," she said. "No flower ever bloomed because nature was kind to it all its life."

"Destruction…and beauty," Aurora echoed lazily, eyes closing and yawning.

Maleficent watched her until she was sure the queen was fast asleep. She had always been so still in her sleep, never tossing or turning once she was dreaming. And so it was now, her head pillowed in the feathers of Maleficent's wing, her one hand outstretched towards her godmother as if to hold her arm while she slept.

As carefully as she could, Maleficent retracted her wing from beneath Aurora's head, allowing the blonde crown to fall down lightly on the pillow. With a gentle pull of her hand she lifted the comforter up and over Aurora, making it snug around her. It was the closest thing to an embrace she could give the girl.

And she watched her sleep awhile. She rested her hand against Aurora's warm forward and retracted it as if blessing her to sleep. She stood and watched over her.

"Sleep Aurora," she whispered before she made to leave.

She gave a quick hiss towards Diaval who woke instantly, flying over to rest on his mistress's shoulder. And after one last look to make sure she was safe, away they flew as the dawn cut through the dark on the horizon.


	3. War Games

When Aurora woke she was not surprised that Maleficent had gone. She did, however, feel incredibly empty. She always kept to lurking just out of sight. Sometimes it was unsettling, the thought of Maleficent knowing where she was while she hadn't the foggiest where she was. But it had never felt like being watched, not in that way. It was more a guardian angel than a predator.

"She loves you as best as she can."

Diaval had shown up later in the morning, in human form. The first thing Aurora realized about the situation is that he and Maleficent must of gotten into a fight. His punishment being stuck human until Maleficent felt inclined to return him to normal. The next realization is that he walked all the way to the castle from the Moors.

"She doesn't like being touched, not even by you. She doesn't smile often. But she walked into the castle expecting to die, just to give you a chance to live," he said, "She's a very complicated person."

"Love shouldn't be a chore," Aurora mumbled as they walked through the town outside the castle. She aimlessly looked at the vender tables. Most of the common citizens didn't pay her any head. The closest anyone got to recognizing the plain looking blonde girl was a long stare and the mental debate over bowing or not.

"No it shouldn't," he agreed, "Which is why instead of blaming her you should pity her—don't tell her of course. If she thought anyone was pitying her she'd probably turn me into a ferret for the rest of my life."

"If I could know why then maybe—"

"Don't even start," he said, "Her secrets are hers and not mine to divulge."

And to that Aurora, as frustrated as she was, had to smile. Maleficent had released Diaval of his life debt to her, she knew. But he'd elected, wordlessly, to stay. They didn't talk about it or acknowledge it. Things simply carried on as they were: Maleficent doling out orders, Diaval obeying and suffering to become whatever animal she saw fit to make him into.

"Aurora I've known her far longer and better than you have," he said, "I saw everything she didn't want me to see. She may never show you the outward affection you want—and deserve. But she'd die before she let anything happen to you. Trust that about her."

"If she had to be miserable for so long, I'm glad it was with you," Aurora said. And she meant it.

Diaval smiled, well half-smiled. His eyes, in comparison to what his mouth was trying to convey, were sad, a dull kind of sad that had existed for a very long time. He looked almost tired, tired perhaps of looking at Maleficent frown. And Aurora was too. She'd always accepted that coldness was just a part of who Maleficent was. She was passive, monotone, closed-off, and quiet about most of her opinions. It wasn't until she asked her about her wings that she knew something had been stirring inside Maleficent that leaked constant pain into her heart.

Then she began to imagine the person Maleficent might have been before when she still had her wings. Perhaps she smiled and laughed regularly, perhaps everyone wasn't so afraid of her, perhaps she played games and had friends. She must have, to love Aurora as she did, the goodness inside she tried to hide had to come from somewhere. Nothing comes from nothing.

The one thing Aurora was sure of was her father, he was involved somehow. He'd been the one who had stolen her wings, she gathered that much. Maleficent was strong, she'd heard stories from the other faeries about how she, very nearly single-handedly, defeated a battalion of human soldiers. Overpowering her would have been difficult. However her father stole her wings, he did not do it as her enemy.

"So, what did you say?" she changed the subject.

"Beg pardon?"

"What'd you do to make her angry?" she gestured to his legs, "She sent you here walking."

"Mistress and I did not agree," he said.

"About?"

"Many things."

Aurora sighed. He'd gotten as bad as her godmother. Secrets left and right, secrets about her birth, about her identity, secrets about her curse, secrets about her father. Aurora's life was a web of falsehoods hidden by those who claimed to know better. And now mundane secrets too, secrets about day-to-day conversations. It was not unusual for Maleficent and Diaval to bicker and now they were hiding that too.

Thus far the only person in her life who hadn't lied to her was Phillip. Her heart very quickly went racing when she pictured his eyes in her head and her cheeks lit up.

"You alright Aurora?" Diaval asked, "You look flushed. Mistress will turn me into a cockroach if you fell ill under my watch."

"I'm perfectly fine," she lied poorly. "Just thinking is all."

About?

"Many things."

He looked like he very nearly wanted to smile.

"She's teaching you bad habits," he said, "Her wit is far too sharp to be yours."

"I'm not sure, I think it suites me," she said in a mock of Maleficent's voice and Diaval laughed.

They moved past the marketplace, Diaval following in Aurora's steps obediently. She led them to the hillside. It was wet from rain and nearly blew a mist in the wind. The sun pulled behind a cloud as she turned to look at the Moors far off in the distance, the wall of thorns still standing tall and thick. Somewhere in there Maleficent walked, watching over, healing, probably terrorizing a bit as well.

And somewhere not far from the Moors her old cottage lay as well. As unfit as her Aunties had been that cabin had felt like home and still felt like home far more than the castle ever could. It had been quiet and warm and snug and content. The castle was boastful and cold and large and loud. It only ever felt like home when Maleficent was around, which was few and far between. Maleficent was off wandering the woods…

…Those same woods where she first met Phillip.

"Diaval, can I ask you something?" she said.

"Anything Aurora."

"It's hypothetical of course, but I was—When two people sort of like each other, really _like_ each other…how—how is that supposed to go exactly? I mean I read stories but…" She felt her cheeks heat up with the more words that fell from her mouth. She wasn't even sure what she was trying to ask. She knew the way these stories went when they were stories, but how was she meant to go about it in real life? Did she and Phillip talk about it? Did she wait for him to bring it up or was it proper for her to do so as well?

"And what exactly has you thinking hypothetically?" he asked, looking very closely at her.

"The curse," she lied, "True love, I mean." It was an awful lie and he was looking right through it at her.

"You'd do better asking mistress," he said, "She's more suited to, uh—hypothetical questions than I am." She could see his smile though, a knowing kind adults gave children when they understood something the younger ones did not. Aurora did understand it, she just didn't know what to do about it.

Asking Maleficent was the obvious choice but it was also the more dangerous one for a number of reasons: chief among them being Phillip's safety. Maleficent was protective to a fault, and she didn't like Phillip. Well, she probably wouldn't like anyone. Still Maleficent would know better than Diaval and was less likely to make fun of her.

"Perhaps…"

It didn't get farther than that however as she finally caught sight of the position of the sun in the sky. She jumped up from her perch on a boulder, nearly sending Diaval toppling over in surprise.

"I'll be late! I have a—meeting or council or whatever they're called," she rambled hiking up her gown and running across the tall grass. "Wait here Diaval," she called behind her.

"Well I wouldn't get very far even if I didn't," she heard him groan behind her.

* * *

Aurora tugged the knots from her hair and pressed down her dress feverishly outside the council room. She hoped she didn't smell too much of grass and rain (_like Malefcient_). She used a handkerchief to wipe away sweat on her forehead.

"You look fine, ma'am," said the chambermaid who helped her look presentable, "You'll easily be the most beautiful person in that room," she smiled.

Aurora took a deep breath and flattened her dress some more. There were some grass stains around the hem and light fraying was starting but she pushed that from her mind. She was a queen, she'd hold her head high.

_Pretend you're Maleficent._

And she walked into the double open doors as gracefully as she could muster. The sound of her shoes on the tile floor echoed and she let it be her entrance music, that's what Maleficent would do. Be commanding, not dangerous…not too much like Maleficent.

"Her Majesty, Queen Aurora," the major domo announced from the doorway and all the councilors stood up and bowed their heads. As last time, Aurora curtsied back, hoping she looked far surer of herself than she felt.

"Good afternoon, Majesty," said the larger one. "We have reviewed the faerie queen's request for a moot in our hostilities."

Aurora wasn't sure if she was meant to respond to the statement so she stayed silent, nodding her head a bit to show she heard and understood. He shuffled through papers a bit and Aurora felt herself grow very, very tense.

Something was wrong.

The way the three other men shared glances with each other, the look in their eyes that told Aurora they knew something she did not and not at all in the familial, fun way Diaval's eyes had teased her. This was very real, and very dangerous. Something was off.

"As mentioned in our earlier meeting," he said, "We wanted time to extract information on the nature of motivations of those involved to assure the safety of our kingdom—both kingdoms."

It sounded routine but it felt toxic, something was festering and she suddenly wished with all her heart her godmother was here. Could Maleficent feel that as she had felt Aurora fall victim to the curse? Perhaps. She wanted her wings like a shield.

"We feel we cannot completely ignore the events surrounding your birth and sixteenth birthday," he said.

Aurora had pleaded before them earlier that the curse had been a family matter, a personal grievance between the royal family and the faerie queen. She swore up and down in their own jargon that it had not been a state affair, that it had been settled. The looks in their faces told her she should know something was not right but she began to panic and sweat.

"We feel the only way to resolve this matter is to put the faerie on trial for her crimes," he said, "If we find her not rehabilitated then the punishment for crimes against the kingdom which include regicide and a second account of attempted regicide…is beheading."

Aurora felt the air rushing out of her lungs as if she'd fallen down a deep crevice but here she was, somehow still standing in the her own council room watching a group of men condemn her godmother to die. She recalled the sheer terror she felt that night watching the iron chains come down and trap her. Watching the guards beat her through tears she hadn't even known she was crying.

"No!" Aurora said before she could stop herself, "You can't—you will not put her on trial. You can't!"

She'd gone from queen to child in three seconds. She was truly sixteen in that moment, younger than she'd ever been and she truly felt it as she practically screamed in her head for Maleficent's help. _Please Godmother! Please…mother_.

They couldn't do this. They'd never catch Maleficent, they'd never be strong enough to keep her prisoner, the fair folk would never allow it, they'd riot, they'd fight, they'd attack the human kingdom. They'd…get exactly what they wanted.

She looked at the councilors and for the first time saw them.

"Why?" Aurora said aloud. She knew her tone accused them.

"To put it entirely frankly Your Majesty," the large one said, "Your father bankrupted the realm. Between the cost of iron, the salary of the iron workers…we've got nothing to offer back as debtors, and we are debtors to many kingdoms."

"War makes money," said the tall one plainly. "As of right now, a peace treaty with the fair folk would not benefit us in anyway."

"So you decide to try and kill each other over it?" Aurora said, "I don't think lives are worth gold."

"No but the jobs created by the lives lost is," said the one with the big nose, "This is the way nations run. We need the output a war would provide, if we're being completely frank with Your Majesty, the faerie can give us that."

Aurora decided in that moment she'd do better in stone silence than anything else so she turned her heart to steel, just for a few moments. She stood back up and pretended she was Maleficent.

"Very well," she said evenly, "I will—I will come to call upon you later about the—advancement of this plot. For now, I think I shall retire."

She was out of the door before she could see their faces, but she felt her eyes. She'd given herself away in all the chaos she'd given herself away. They would never believe she and Maleficent were simply reluctant, diplomatic friends. Perhaps it had been a test as well, to trick her into revealing exactly what she just had. Maleficent told her she could not show bias and she had just screamed it at them.

And their plan was horrid on principle. The sacrifice of so much for money, that couldn't be it, that couldn't be the way a monarch solved things. Kings and queens were meant to protect their kingdoms, the strong, the weak, the sick, the prosperous, everyone. How could she call herself a queen if she abided that thousands of people would die for money? That was a coward, a low-life, black market dealer. Not one to wear a crown.

"Diaval!" she cried hoarsely when she was out of the castle's tall walls.

He appeared as if from nowhere, a black raggedy shape against the green of the hills around the kingdom. He was not smiling now, not when he saw her face and the tears that were wetting her cheeks.

"I've ruined it, I ruined all of it!" she cried as his skinny arms caught her form. She hugged tightly to his chest and as much as he tried to offer back, it was Maleficent's arms she wanted. She needed to know it was not as bad as she feared, she needed to know it wasn't her fault.

"I want to go home," she whispered, "To the Moors, please."

He wanted to ask, he even opened his mouth to do it but she let out another sob beyond her control and he did not fight her.

* * *

Diaval had entertained himself by watching the birds and watching every corner to make sure Maleficent wasn't about to pop from behind a rock and turn him into a puppy.

Her anger over their row had only justified it in his mind. It was proof that beneath the endless layers of glares and stillborn emotions that she truly did feel deeper than anyone possibly could.

"It's your fault, you know."

That first statement had been worded wrong when he looked back at it. That doomed the conversation from the first. But he meant to make small talk as often as he could with her. But he'd spent a few days straight as a bird, his social skills perhaps had gone lax in that time.

"You're not the first person to tell me that, what am I being blamed for this time?" she said, not looking up from the shrub she was mending.

"Aurora being afraid of thunderstorms," he said, "It's because of that trick you played."

He watched her face, first looked confused as her mind shuffled through countless memories to find the one in question, then contort into the simmering rage of her realization: the memory of dosing the pixies in a thunderstorm inside their house. At the time Maleficent had not cared much for the child, "it'll live" she said after the rainstorm was over.

"What?" she said.

He'd caught her off guard, and that had been the first clue that he should back off. He hadn't meant it all so seriously, he'd observed it and wanted to tell her. Plenty of parents are responsible for scaring their children in some way over something. But she did not seem to find it a funny story to tell at dinner parties. She looked disgusted.

"I only—I was just saying she didn't like storms after that," he said, "It's really nothing." She stopped talking to him then and walked away.

And now, with Aurora crying in his arms did Diaval understand what he'd condemned Maleficent too, even in the smallest of ways. It was, in all truth, not a huge problem or something to make a fuss over. But seeing the crying queen he understood Maleficent's pain at knowing she'd brought the girl even a little discomfort and pain in the form of a childhood fear.

Maleficent was a mother through and through. No, she was _Aurora's_ mother through and through. And now Aurora was sputtering tears begging to be taken back to Maleficent, to home, and to the only person who had shown her any true love all her life.


End file.
